Bob Shaw & Walt Willis - The Enchanted Duplicator

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[ This file is provided by permission from Walt Willis, at the SF-Archives, Glasgow University. It is

provided as part of a free service in connection with distribution of SF Archives. It may be freely copied

or redistributed in whole or in part as long as this notice remains intact. ]

THE ENCHANTED DUPLICATOR

Walt Willis & Bob Shaw

Preface to the computer-readable edition.

This computer-readable edition of THE ENCHANTED DUPLICATOR is copied from the 8th printed

edition. Sadly, ASCII terminals cannot show Dan Steffan's excellent illustrations. A very few typos have

been corrected; I have doubtless introduced more of my own. The only typographic peculiarity present is

that words bracketed by asterisks like *this* should be regarded as underlined.

Peter Trei

oc.trei@cu20b.arpa

1 April 1985

Preface to the Eighth edition

This is the eighth edition of The Enchanted Duplicator. Walt Willis and George Charters published the

first edition, with illustrations by Bob Shaw, in 1954. Ted Johnstone and George Fields produced a

version with Eddie Jones art in 1962. Arnie Katz and Rich Brown published the third edition, illustrated

by C. Rose Chamberlain, in 1971. In 1972, The Enchanted Duplicator was serialized (as installments of

"The Clubhouse," normally a fanzine-review column) in AMAZING SCIENCE FICTION. In 1979, the

British worldcon, SeaCon '79, also produced an edition. In 1980, this fannish allegory was published in

the 600-page WARHOON 28 as part of a Collected Works of Willis. And in 1981, Gary Farber did a

300-copy replica of the third edition. Obviously this is a durable work.

Some of the allusions in The Enchanted Duplicator will be clearer if one knows a bit of fanhistory. For

example, it is useful to know that Mari Wolff, during her stint as a fanzine reviewer in the prozine

IMAGINATION, doled out egoboo with heedless abandon, or that many fans used Swift Printers in the

early 1950s. Still, the spirit of the work is just as strong today as when it was first published, and a failure

to understand a few random bits of esoterica won't lessen your enjoyment. Jophan Credits for the Eighth

Edition:

The 1983 edition of THE ENCHANTED DUPLICATOR by Walt Willis and Bob Shaw, and

illustrated by Dan Steffan is jointly produced by Editions Dante and Constellation, the 1983 World

Science Fiction Convention.

*Credits*: Design and Layout: Dan Steffan; Typing: Lynn Steffan; Map: C. Ross Chamberlain; Vile

Instigator: Gary Farber; Boss Ladies: Avedon Carol and Peggy Rae Pavlat; Inspiration: The Spirit of

Fandom.

This 1983 edition is dedicated to the memory of BOB PAVLAT, A Trufan.

Chapter One

In Which the Spirit of Fandom appears to Jophan.

Once upon a time in the village of Prosaic in the Country of Mundane there lived a youth called Jophan.

Now this youth was unhappy, because in all the length and breadth of Mundane there was no other

person with whom he could talk as he would like, or who shared the strange longings that from time to

time perplexed his mind and which none of the pleasures offered by Mundane could wholly satisfy. Each

day as Jophan grew nearer to manhood he felt more strongly that life should have more to offer than had

been dreamed of in Mundane, and he took to reading strange books that told of faraway places and

other times. But the People of Prosaic mocked him, saying that the things described in his books could

never come to pass, and that it was as foolish to think of them as to aspire to climb the great mountains

that surrounded the Country of Mundane.

The mighty peaks that hemmed in Mundane were ever present in Jophan's thoughts, for since childhood

he had loved to look at them and wonder what lay on their other side. At times in the late Summer he had

even seemed to see a curious luminescence in the sky beyond them and once he had even fancied that he

heard the sound of happy voices singing, borne over the vast distances on the still Summer breeze. But

when he mentioned these things to the People of Prosaic they laughed at him and said his fanciful

imagination was playing him tricks. Even if anyone could climb these impassable mountains, they told him,

there could be nothing on the other side but howling wastes where no man could live except perhaps

madmen and savages.

Jophan believed them, for they seemed older and wiser than he, and tried to put the strange thoughts

out of his mind. But he still read the strange books that told of faraway places and other times, and in the

long evenings of Summer he would go away by himself into the fields and read until nightfall.

Now one day while he was reading in a cornfield, the drowsy fragrance of the corn lulled him to sleep.

In his sleep he dreamed that a fairy came to him, a girl of wondrous beauty and shining with a light

brighter than the noonday sun, so that Jophan shrank away and hid his eyes. The fairy came nearer and

spoke to him.

"Have no fear," she said. "I am your friend."

And now Jophan looked and saw that indeed the fairy gazed on him with kindness and love, and he

took courage.

"Who and what are you?" he asked.

"I am the Spirit of Fandom," said the fairy serenely.

"What is Fandom?" asked Jophan wonderingly.

The fairy looked down on him with compassion. "Have you not been searching for it all your life?" she

asked. "Watch!" So saying, she touched his forehead with her wand, which was called Contact, and

thereupon Jophan saw a vision that filled him with Joy.

"This is indeed what I have been searching for without knowing it," he cried. "Oh, Fairy, tell me how I

can reach your realm, for I wish to become a Fan more than anything else in the world."

"The Way is hard," said the Fairy, "for it lies over the Mountains of Inertia which surround Mundane."

"But those mountains are unclimable," protested Jophan.

"To a True Fan anything is possible," replied the Fairy. "But wait. I have shown you only the superficial

aspects of Fandom. Now I will show you something of its inner essence." With those words she touched

his forehead with her other wand, which was named Fanac, and Jophan saw a second vision so glorious

that he was quite overcome by the wonder of it.

As soon as he could speak he cried aloud, "Oh Spirit of Fandom, tell me how I may become a True

Fan and publish the Perfect Fanzine, for that is what I desire more than anything in the world."

"I see that I have chosen wisely," said the Fairy approvingly, "but the way to your heart's desire is long

and hard. To reach it you must obtain the Enchanted Duplicator, sometimes known as the Magic

Mimeograph. It lies in the very heart of Fandom, on the top of the High Tower of Trufandom, and the

path to it is long and beset with many dangers."

"I do not care for danger," said Jophan stoutly, "so long as I can publish the Perfect Fanzine, for that is

what I want more than anything else in the world."

"Very well," said the Fairy. "Then take this Shield, which is called Umor. If you polish it every day and

keep it shining it will protect you from many dangers."

"But how will I know the way?" cried Jophan hastily, for the Fairy was already beginning to disappear.

"If you are a True Fan you will know the way...." said the Fairy faintly, for she had now almost

completely faded into invisibility. For a moment a faint glow remained in the air from which seemed to

come the whispered words "Good Luck," and then she was gone.

Jophan woke from his dream and realized that night was almost upon him, for the sun was setting

behind the Mountains of Inertia and their shadows were advancing swiftly on him across the level plains

of Mundane. Behind the mountains there lingered a sea of glorious light, and a sadness overtook Jophan

to think that his vision had been but a dream. But as he got to his feet he noticed that on the ground

beside him there lay a shield of curious workmanship. Jophan picked it up incredulously and than turned

his eyes once again to the mountains, his face transfigured with wonder and resolve.

Chapter Two

In Which Jophan starts on his Journey.

That evening Jophan told his parents of his intention to scale the Mountains of Inertia and enter the

Realm of Fandom. His mother pleaded with him in vain, and in a fit of rage his father burned all the books

that told of faraway places and other times, but nothing could shake Jophan from his purpose. As dawn

broke he set out for the mountains, carrying all his possessions on his back and turning a deaf ear to the

protests of his friends, who ran behind him begging him to return.

They soon fell far behind, and by noon Jophan arrived at the borders of Mundane. He found himself at

the great arterial road that ran to the capital city. He was confused by the traffic that roared along the

road, and stood anxiously looking for an opportunity to cross. As he waited he noticed other travellers

boarding luxurious coaches bound for fabulous destinations such as Wealth, Success, Respectability and

other places, but none of them seemed to be going in the direction of Fandom. During a momentary lull in

the traffic Jophan marched steadfastly across the road. Then he took the narrow path that led through the

Forest of Stupidity, which forest grows all around the Country of Mundane and shelters it from the

searching winds that blow out of Fandom.

The path was overgrown, and in several places Jophan had to cut his was through brush and thickets,

but by mid-afternoon he had made his way to a beautiful clearing where he thought he would rest before

continuing his journey. To his surprise he noticed that the clearing was laid out as an aerodrome, and that

a beautiful silver flying-machine was even now landing. As he watched, the pilot and a passenger got out.

The passenger seemed to fall to the ground and lie there motionless but the pilot came trotting over to

Jophan. He was a fat, prosperous-looking man, and he eyed Jophan with calculating cordiality.

Good afternoon, young man," he said genially. "My name is Swift. May I ask where you are bound

for?"

"My name is Jophan," said Jophan, "and I am on my way over the Mountains of Inertia to enter

Fandom and produce the Perfect Fanzine, for that is what I want to do more than anything else in the

world."

"And so you shall!" said Swift, eyeing Jophan's bundle. "But, my dear young man, surely you are not

thinking of *climbing* those mountains? Why, my beautiful machine will fly you over to Fandom in no

time. And as for the Perfect Fanzine, my aeroplanograph will produce that for you too. No trouble at all.

All you have to do is give me that bundle of yours."

"The Fairy said that I must get the Enchanted Duplicator," said Jophan doubtfully.

"That old thing?" jeered Swift. "Why, no one bothers with old- fashioned stuff like that these days. I've

got some proofs for you."

As he hurried past the aeroplanograph to his office, Jophan observed that the passenger was crawling

painfully over the grass, calling feebly to Jophan. Jophan hurried over to him and could scarcely restrain

his tears as he saw the stranger's pitiful condition. The wretch was pale and emaciated, his clothes in rags,

and his hair prematurely white. Jophan bent down to hear what he was saying. "Don't trust him,"

whispered the passenger through his parched lips, "neither him nor his brothers, Offset and Litho. They

will fly you over the Mountains of Inertia, as they claim, but you won't be able to land anywhere. You will

fly around in circles for months looking down on Fandom until all your money is gone and you die of

starvation like me. Be warned before it is too late. There is no easy way..."

His voice trailed off into inaudibility, and Jophan realized that he was dead. Solemnly he consigned his

soul to Heaven and prayed that the great BNF above would have pity on him. Then he ran across the

aerodrome and resumed his journey through the forest.

Soon the trees began to thin out and the ground to rise, and Jophan knew he had arrived at the foothills

of the Mountains of Inertia. As he paused to strap his bundle more tightly about him he was startled to

hear what seemed to be a train whistle nearby. He went forward curiously and soon found himself facing

a large and imposing notice. In clear and elegant letters it said: TO THE TUNNEL. LETTERPRESS

RAILROAD. MUNDANE TO TRUFANDOM TOWER DIRECT VIA TUNNEL. Beyond it Jophan

saw a dark tunnel leading into the mountain, and before it a resplendent locomotive and a single tiny

carriage behind it.

Had it not been for his encounter with the Passenger, Jophan would have bought a ticket and boarded

the train, but instead he stayed where he was and watched the locomotive as it started off. With a

deafening blow on its whistle and an impressive clanking of gears it steamed forward towards the inky

blackness of the tunnel, but it had barely reached the entrance before it shuddered to a stop. To his

astonishment, Jophan saw the driver, fireman and passengers get off and run to the back of the train.

With immense labor they lifted the last section of the track and staggered with it into the tunnel. After

some minutes they reappeared and boarded the train again. The train moved another few yards into the

tunnel, and the process was repeated. Jophan watched them until they finally disappeared into the tunnel,

marvelling at their obstinacy and patience. It may be, he thought, a wonderful railroad, but if they have to

set every one of the lines by hand it will be years before they even reach Fandom, let alone Trufandom.

He listened for a while to the groanings and clankings still coming from the tunnel and then set off on the

steep path up the mountain.

Chapter Three

In Which Jophan tarries in the Circle of Lassitude.

The path was steep, and by nightfall Jophan was near exhaustion. Worse, he had entered a region of

thick fog, and he could no longer see the path in front of him. Afraid lest he would take a false step and

fall down the precipitous slope, Jophan stopped helplessly and resolved to wait until the fog cleared. But

as the sound of his own breathing subsided he heard voices above him. He felt his way inch by inch along

the path and suddenly found himself at the entrance to a brilliantly lit, circular cave. It was full of people of

all ages talking and laughing and playing games. As soon as they noticed his presence they hospitably

invited him in, gave him something to drink, and then went on with their talking and playing.

After a while one of the youths finished his game and came over to him. "Where are you bound for?" he

asked politely.

"I am going to Fandom to publish the Perfect Fanzine," said Jophan, "For that is what I want to do more

than anything else in the world."

"But *this* is Fandom!" exclaimed the youth indignantly.

"Well, not exactly," said an older man who overheard, "but it's good enough for us. Actually this is only

the Circle of Lassitude. We've heard of Fandom, of course, but it's such a lot of trouble getting over

those mountains that we don't know much about it. We have all we want here, you see, so we're quite

happy. If you want to know something about it, though, I could introduce you to those three old men in

the corner. They lived in Fandom for a time long ago, until they came back for a visit to the capital of

Mundane. They were never able to tear themselves completely away or to face another journey over the

mountains. It's easier to come back, you know. By the way, my name is Leth, Robert George Leth. They

call me Leth R. G. for short."

The Circle was so pleasant and hospitable that Jophan decided to spend the night in the cave. But they

had so plied him with drink that he slept most of the following day until it seemed too late to start. The

same thing happened the next day, and the next, and by degrees Jophan sank into a stupor, in which he

forgot the object of his quest. Now and then he felt dimly that he had lost some precious thing but

whenever he tried to recall what it was one of the Circle would press a drink into his hand and distract his

attention with the latest verses of the wits of Mundane.

One day while Jophan was talking with the others a great wind blew from Fandom and a sheet of paper

whirled into the cave. Jophan picked it up and examined it curiously. Its appearance stirred half-forgotten

memories of the dazzling vision he had had from the touch of the wand called Fanac. "Why," he gasped,

"It's . . . It's a Fanzine!"

"So it is," said Leth R. G., idly. "They blow in from Fandom occasionally. We never pay much

attention."

Without another word Jophan shouldered his bundle and marched out of the cave. The others watched

him in silence, and after he was gone it was a long time before anyone spoke. Then they renewed their

talking and playing twice as loudly as before, as if trying to convince themselves that they were happy.

Chapter Four

In Which Jophan meets a Traveller from Fandom.

Jophan had been weakened both in mind and body by the drinks he had imbibed in the cave, and he

found the going very difficult. The path became steeper and steeper, and one by one he had to abandon

all the possessions he had brought with him. Even so, by evening he was so tired that he had to rest on a

ledge to regain his strength. Below him he could see the path winding down into the Region of Fog,

strewn with his cherished possessions. Further down the green Forest of Stupidity was spread below

him, and beyond that the peaceful country of Mundane basking in the light of the setting sun. Shivering

with cold as he was, for the Mountains of Inertia screened the sunlight from him, Jophan found the

prospect enticing and it came to him how easy it would be to retrace his steps down the path, gather up

his possessions, and return to the placid life of Mundane.

While he was musing thus he heard a terrible sound above his head, and cowered into the shelter of the

ledge just in time to escape a deadly landslide of rocks and loose stones. Behind them down the path

there slithered and stumbled the highest horse Jophan had ever seen, and on his back an angry little man,

pulling at the reins and swearing continually. Every now and then the horse dislodged another stone which

clattered down the mountainside, awakening a fresh landslide.

"Pardon me," said Jophan, "but you really should be more careful. You might injure some of the other

pilgrims on the path."

"Serve them right," snarled the little man, without dismounting from his high horse. "My name is

Disillusion -- *the* Disillusion, y'know. Who are you?"

"My name is Jophan," said Jophan, "and I am on my way to Fandom to produce the Perfect Fanzine,

for that is what I want to do more than anything else in the world."

"More fool you," sneered the other. "Only a fool would want to enter that place."

"Why, what's wrong with it?" asked Jophan.

"What's wrong with it?" repeated Disillusion incredulously. "Why *everything's* wrong with it! They're

either stupid or mad, every one of them. Why, they didn't even come out to greet me when I arrived --

*me*, mind you! At first they even pretended not to see me until I got down off my horse, and when they

did speak to me I couldn't understand a word they were saying. And their customs! I've never seen

anything like them!"

"Well, after all," said Jophan, "it's a different country. Maybe if you had tried to learn the language ..."

"Nonsense!" snapped Disillusion. "They were just trying to keep things from me and laughing behind my

back. Well, they can have their secrets. I don't want to have anything to do with them. They were all

against me, I tell you. Imagine, not even thanking me for entering Fandom after all I tried to teach them

..."

Speechless with indignation, he spurred the horse on again and vanished down the path. Jophan thought

he was the most conceited and self-centered person he had ever met, but nevertheless the encounter

refreshed him. It seemed to him that the dislike of such a person was a very good recommendation for

Fandom. With this new vigor he set off again on his journey and by nightfall he had reached a point from

which he thought he should be able to reach the summit tomorrow. Happy in the prospect of seeing

Fandom so soon, he curled up in a little cave and went to sleep.

Chapter Five

In Which Jophan enters Fandom.

Next morning Jophan arose with the first rays of the sun and set off towards the now beckoning summit

in good heart. He was overjoyed to see that there were no more gloomy people like Disillusion coming

galloping by. They are really very rare in Fandom, he reflected, and the thought put him in such good

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